A letter from Mar 03, 2026

Dear my you of June 2026, Have you come back home yet? How’s the weather there these days — is it unbearably hot? I’m sitting at work right now. And somehow, in the middle of spreadsheets and unfinished tasks, I found myself thinking about you. We’ve been arguing a little more lately, haven’t we? And sometimes I get this strange feeling — like this summer might be harder for us to hold hands through. I don’t want that. Not even a little. I know, rationally, that no two people can promise “forever” with absolute certainty. But just the thought of not loving you anymore… of not knowing how your days are going, whether you’re eating well, whether you’re sleeping enough — it makes my heart feel heavier than I’d like to admit. When you love someone, you begin to feel what missing truly means. You miss them when you cannot see them. You miss them right after you’ve just met. Sometimes, even while sitting right beside them, you still feel that quiet ache of missing... Missing — for the moments when you won’t be able to be together. I really do want to keep meeting you under the sunlight and wind of this year’s summer. Today a northeast monsoon arrived. It’s chilly, but strangely comfortable. Maybe this is what it feels like when two people care deeply about each other — a little warm, a little afraid. Afraid even in the calmest, happiest moments. But still… I hope that the me of this spring can meet you again in the summer. Yours — Chún